


winter camellia

by quags1re



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Angst, M/M, based off of berserk ike in heroes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24446497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quags1re/pseuds/quags1re
Summary: Ike touches the medallion, and yet Soren feels as if he is the one that's gone mad.
Relationships: Ike/Senerio | Soren
Comments: 15
Kudos: 181





	winter camellia

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! 
> 
> as soon as i saw berserk ike in the trailer for the newest fallen banner i think i ascended and now i have 7k words of absolute self indulgent shit i literally replayed path of radiance and yet i have absolutely zero grasp on either soren or ike so let that be a warning
> 
> so im taking liberties with fallen ike! sometimes he's got moments of clarity and reasoning and so im just mashing that shit up with lotsa anger and ta da
> 
> please forgive my characterization rhhdhdhd
> 
> this takes place in any part of canon that u want it to be lol

It happens like most injuries and mistakes on the battlefield, at first an accident, only to be allowed to fester like an untreated wound and morph into something horrific, something untreatable, something that was unable to be fixed simply by waving a staff over it.

Ike touches the medallion.

It was indeed, an accident. Of course. No matter how reckless Ike is, it was an accident. The medallion falls from Mist's neck, a cleverly shot arrow, and Ike grabs it in midair, unthinking, on instinct, and that's why Soren is frantically pushing strands of hair behind his ears and twitching instead of nervously biting his fingernails. Ike is in danger.

Ike has touched the medallion, and Soren is all the way on the other side of the field.

What seemed like strategic placement at first came crashing down on Soren like a waking nightmare. He wasn't there, and Ike could have-

Soren finds himself running to Ike. He trips, and nearly smashes his skull against the hard packed dirt, but rights himself quickly enough that he goes dizzy with the effort. His vision is blurring, and it's hard to see.

He pushes through the screams and the bandits that they were facing, frozen in fear, and Soren spots the spiky hair before his heart catches up with his eyes.

Ike is covered- 

_-covered in blood._ His hands are dyed a violent, gory shade of blood red, and Ike seems to have wiped the excess from his palms to his mouth, for there is a damning smudge painting his lips, a rouge unknown by name. His sword is painted that colour, too, almost unmistakable.

There is a fog around him. It is a twist of shadow and the purple violet of bruises, swarming around Ike's head like storm clouds foretelling disaster. It curls around his hands and his neck and seems to make Ike glow upon the backdrop of evening. It does not bend to the wind, merely floating in place, swirling ominously.

Soren pushes back the urge to gag over the sight and the smell of the bodies littering the grass. If Soren focuses a little longer upon the corpses, he'll be able to examine the violent imprint of Ike's swordsmanship upon each slash and cut. The strength to cut a person in two. To remove a head from shoulders. The ability to carve the life out of a soul.

And Ike looks at Soren now, over that field, blood sprouting in place of blossoming flowers. Ike is standing over his sister, who had the look of being unharmed but it would be less difficult to tell if there wasn't a frankly disgusting amount of blood splattered upon her person.

"GET BACK!"

Soren does not flinch, like the surrounding mess of friend and foe alike do. He only juts his chin out stubbornly and takes another step towards Ike.

"Ike," Soren says, not as cold as he would have liked his voice to be, especially in such a precarious situation, "put your weapon down. They seem to have surrendered already."

Soren would shoo them away with a swipe of his hand, but he is not so certain Ike would not follow. Besides, he cannot spare them a glance, not when Ike seems so unlike himself, so distraught. Ike would not hurt him, nor Mist, nor any of his other friends. 

Strangers, bandits? In this state, Ike is less predictable. Soren is not sure. The only reason he doesn't risk it is if Ike comes back to himself and realizes that he's laid hands on people that may be innocent, he would be inwardly upset.

But then again, considering the situation...

"Get back," Ike spits furiously, as though he were yelling through fire and flame. "Get back! Come any closer... And I'll cut you down!"

Mist is shaking on the floor at her brother's feet, shooting Soren wide eyed glances. He does not know how to interpret these looks, and takes another step.

"Ike," Soren says, softer now. "It's just us."

Ike doesn't seem to have heard a word. Soren snaps his fingers, once, twice, to get his attention, all while moving closer to Ike one step at a time. Finally, Ike looks at Soren, his eyes dark. There is that shadow hanging around him, weaving in and out, a blistering bruise-shade of purple and black. It curls around Soren's legs when he gets closer, the pressure barely there, cool to the touch.

"Ike, stop this at once!" Soren yells.

"...Soren," Ike breathes, sounding less stern. "Soren... Stay back. Rgh... It's not... safe..."

If Soren puffs a small sigh of relief, it is only for him to notice. "You're scaring Mist," Soren snaps. "Will you stop that?!"

_Scaring me-_

Ike looks at Soren with a speculative kind of expression. "Soren," he bites out, voice hard. "They're scaring Mist. You are... Here too. They might hurt you. Hurt you both... I have to get rid of them. Stand back..."

Soren does not stand back. In fact, he steps forward again, more confident now, and narrows his eyes at Ike. "Ike, you stand back. You touched the medallion. Even if it was on accident, that was a foolish move. Stand down. Someone you care for may get hurt in this state."

He bites back a 'please.' 

One of the bandits makes a small sound, curses aloud, and runs. 

Ike follows, darting around Soren's body, and Soren barely has time enough to whirl around and watch as Ike slashes a line from the man's hip to head.

Blood splashes from the force of Ike's swing and small drops splatter across Soren's face.

It wasn't as if Soren was unaware of just how strong Ike was. They fought at each other's backs every single day. But this was the first time that Soren had seen Ike lack grace in his moves. He stumbles along, looking mindless, uncaring of how his enemies die as long as they are dead.

"Not strong enough," Ike murmurs, adjusting his grip on the sword. "BRING ME YOUR STRONGEST!"

"Ahh..." one of the bandits gasp, breathing heavily, "ahh... Spare me, spare me!"

Most of them bolt, quickly regaining their senses and retreating. Others pass out. One practically pisses themselves. Ike chases the ones that are fleeing, and Soren finally comes back to himself. 

"Ike!" Soren yells, feeling the sound being torn from his throat. "Stop!"

One bandit turns around just as Ike descends on him and stabs him in the lower abdomen, and quickly Soren's mix of surprise and shock turn to fear for Ike.

Ike kills that one, too. They scream in pain, and then they make no noise at all. Only then does Soren realize the other wounds upon Ike's body, some shallow and insignificant, but others, like the stab wound, are more dangerous.

Soren has barely taken a step when he sees Titania on the horizon, eyes on Ike. He's too far to see what she says, but he turns around from her and she leaps from her horse, approaching Ike like one might a spooked animal. With one swipe of her hand, Titania lands a sharp hit on his nape that knocks Ike out.

She pulls his collapsed body onto her steed with an enviable strength, and Soren takes the time to take a single, shaking breath before striding over to Mist and hurrying her along.

Mist struggles to take his hand at first, and wobbles when she stands, but runs when Soren urges her to. Both of them ignore the puddle of blood that she was pulled from.

.

Rhys and Mist shoo Soren out of the room just as Ike regains conciousness.

Ike had been asleep for thirty seven hours, none of which Soren would ever admit to counting. He has spent twenty eight hours of that time in Ike's room, immovable. Of course, he moves to work on the expenditures, to pretend to sleep at night, and to grudgingly accept the bread roll Mist hands him when she refuses to leave until she sees him take a bite.

The taste is bland. As usual. Soren wants to spit it out. Any food that is not given by Ike feels like sand in his mouth, rough and unappetizing. And he does not want to sit at the tables, knowing the space Ike occupies at his side will be emptier than ever.

He had busied himself by writing up diagrams, by seeing how many swords they require for their upcoming missions, by scribbling angry lines in the corner of pages and frowning down at them.

Soren needs to collect himself before Ike wakes. He does not want to present himself in front of Ike in such a sloppy manner. There is a fear bludgeoning away at his chest, knocking at the space between his heart and his common sense.

If Ike awoke in a similar state...

Soren turns around to see Ike's eyes open, a shade much different than his usual colour.

"Ike!" Mist sobs, throwing herself onto his chest, regardless of what had happened or his injuries.

Rhys steps back with a relieved sigh, and Soren steps out of the doorframe to let him pass. "I'll go tell the others," he murmurs, and Soren does not spare any time for gazing at his retreating back, in favor of staring at Ike.

Ike, and the shadow that had returned to collect under his palms. It was faint, but there. Like smoke, like fog, like mist.

If Ike realizes this fact, he does not show it, in favor of throwing his arms around his sister, who sobs at the contact. "You said- you said," Mist sniffs, face flushing. "You said that you wouldn't leave me!"

"Sorry," Ike murmurs. He looks up to Soren and smiles faintly at him. "I made you worry, huh?"

The tone of voice makes Soren want to collapse into his arms. It's Ike. "Don't do anything so reckless ever again," Soren scolds him, earning a chuckle. "Are you feeling okay? You did touch the medallion. Anything weird other than the ominous shadow in your palms?"

Ike blinks very slowly up at Soren, and releases his grip on his sister to turn over his hands and examine them himself. "Huh," Ike says.

Mist wipes at her face, then a thought occurs to her. "Oh! That weird shadow hanging about your head earlier! That's it, right?!"

He rotates his wrist around as the mist seeps between his fingers like loose sand. "I don't feel any different," Ike says, conversationally.

Mist sighs, looking relieved, but Soren is not convinced. "Do not lie to me," Soren says, with a tone so blunt and heavy that Ike winces. 

Titania bursts into the room very suddenly, the rest of the Greil mercenaries at her heels. "Oh, thank goodness," she breathes, looking as if the weight of the world was lifted from her shoulders.

"I'm alright," Ike says softly.

Titania sighs, the hard line of her shoulders relaxing. "Ike, you know what happens when you touch that medallion?!" She scolds, sounding far too relieved to sound harsh. "Luckily for us, since you didn't attack anyone at first sight, we can assume that the worst is over. Your hard head certainly comes in handy for all of this."

"They were debating tying you down before you woke," Mist informs him, muffled as she brings him back into another embrace.

Ike ducks his head. "Uh, sorry. About worrying you."

His eyes meet Soren's, apologetic. 

Red.

"You're benched for the next few battles," Titania scolds him, a bit of a laugh in her voice.

" _No!_ " Ike snaps, absolutely vicious. Titania, alongside the rest of the mercenaries flinch back at his sudden tone. Ike has never raised his voice like this, not to them.

Even Ike looks surprised at his sudden snap. He groans, and reaches two palms up to pull at his hair, eyes frantically darting around. "No... What? What is... I need...?"

"Ike?" Soren begins, and walks up to Mist to pull her from his chest. She goes, albeit hesitantly, and clings to Soren with shaky hands. Soren does not push her away. "Are you feeling alright? Hey, can you hear me? Ike?"

Ike claws at his head with brute fingers and Titania marches up to him to pull his hands away. The odd fog seems to push her away at first, but then settles in Ike's palms. Soren eyes it wearily.

"You're not yourself," Titania says, and although her words are smooth her tone is not. "Ike, I..."

Ike overpowers Titania after a few moments of struggle, pushing her hands away and snarling fiercely, but does not raise his hands again to attack her. He merely sets them down with what looks like immense difficulty, hands fisting in the bed sheets.

"I have to... fight! This feeling, this feeling-! I have to temper it somehow!" Ike moans, a desperate, howling sound, like hungry, starving wolves in winter out for blood. "This power... Is it mine? Am I..."

"Ike-"

"Out," Ike hisses, when his hands tremble and form into tight fists. His eyes are wild, frantic, darting all over the room and landing on Oscar's lance, strapped across his back for convenience. His eyes pulse, and seem to glow. "OUT! OUT NOW! I CAN'T LET THIS HURT ANY OF YOU!"

Soren watches, almost in a clinical manner, as the dark fog deepens in colour and in volume and curls itself around Ike's head. It accentuates his eyes, which instead of a familiar blue-

-are now shockingly a shade of crimson red.

"Well," Soren says, attempting for casual and missing the tone completely, simply because it is Ike, "I do believe that Ike was not entirely unaffected."

.

Most of the time, there is nothing outwardly different about Ike, save for that spiraling violet mist shrouding his hands and his head. He seems fine. Chipper, even, and it's likely because everyone in the Greil mercenaries refuse to let him lay eyes upon any stranger, innocent, bandit, or any other individual, lest he fly into a violent rage once more. No one is allowed to talk about the next fight, the next job. Ike looks at the papers Soren's working on over his shoulders, compliments Oscar's cooking, and allows Rhys to wave careful spells over his wounds. It could pass as normal, were it not for the dark haze around him. Ike has a short fuse, shorter than he ever had. but he is never unkind. Merely blunt, moreso than usual. Perhaps even distant, at times.

Occasionally he is snappy, furious, destroying sacks of sand and training dummies and swords. On one memorable occasion, Ike had stomped around and had literally left cracks and indents on the floor where foot met ground. Ike never raises a hand against anyone, and yet everyone in the Greil mercenaries clears out of his way when he is in this sort of mood, save for Titania, Mist, and Soren. It is hard to understand what will set Ike off, after all, and most do not wish to see him so furious and unlike his usual character. Mist sits nearby, pretending to sew away at the latest tear in whatever clothing Ike has inadvertently ruined. Titania offers to spar with Ike, and any such mention is immediately shut down- Ike refuses to lay a hand on any of his friends.

Volke suggests, rather droll, to sick Ike on their next enemies and Mist carefully retells a scene in which she had watched her brother quite literally torn a man in two and used what was left of his body to use as a shield against his allies, before casting it aside without a second glance. Volke shuts up and disappears around a corner, never to be seen for the remainder of the night. 

Shinon snorts at his back, but he does not comment on Ike's sudden personality change.

It is quite odd. All of their experiences with the medallion have ended up horribly, and yet Ike would seem normal were it not for the bandits unfortunate enough to pique his ire.

Ike spends day and night hacking away at training dummies.

Soren stands at his side. Quietly. He's got a thumb between the pages of one book and a goblet of water in the other, ready to pass to Ike whenever he requires it.

On very rare occasions does Ike's blazing fury and his mellow, headstrong personality mix. 

Soren finds those moments more terrifying than any other.

He watches Ike watch the thin line of a wooden sword become brittle and useless, snapping away like a twig in wind, and then suddenly all of Ike's attention is on Soren, eyes lit aflame.

Soren does not jump.

"...Soren," Ike mutters, and tosses the useless weapon aside.

Soren does not back away, but instead lifts his chin ever so slightly to meet his eyes. When Ike's gaze lowers to the pale drop of his neck, Soren almost swallows nervously. He cannot help but curse himself. How foolish, how out of character he was acting, merely because Ike was gazing upon him.

Ike places both hands around Soren's midsection and does not squeeze, simply holds on, a firm grip that Soren would not be able to break if he tried. 

"Look at you, Soren," Ike says, darkly. Perhaps that was not the correct word, but Soren could not find another word for the underlying current in his voice. Soren tries not to shudder, not out of fear, but out of something entirely different. "Are you aware of how soft you seem? But your looks are as sharp as your tongue and wit."

"Wow." Soren tells him. "I'm tempted to ask you how many fingers I'm holding up."

"You seem so small and fragile. I can wrap my hands around your waist and my fingers would overlap. I can squeeze the life out of you, Soren, can't you see? That's why you should listen to my command when I tell you to stand back."

Ike has indeed ordered him to leave when he begins to train, and by train, he means recklessly destroy everything in sight. However, Soren is the tactician of their band of mercenaries, and he does not follow his command.

"I'm not-" Soren hisses, heart leaping away at his ribcage like a butterfly. "How offensive, Ike. I'm not fragile. In your state, you are moreso."

Soren wants to curse himself aloud for that statement. He is absolutely aware that in this state, Ike is more volatile to threats to his strength and taunts. But Ike only looks Soren over.

Ike considers these words with a tilt of his head. "No, you're right. You're always right, Soren. Never fragile. But I could bend you. Hurt you. If I laid even a finger on you, I would not forgive myself." Ike grins wildly, and Soren's pulse picks up without his permission. "But then again, you always were stronger than I, Soren. I need to catch up."

Soren can feel his ears heat up at the words 'bend you.' He is fully aware that Ike does not mean anything by them, but that does not stop his wild, frantic thoughts.

"You wouldn't hurt me," Soren says, with a note of confidence that he can feel in his soul. "Not you. Never you. No matter what happens to ail you."

Ike chuckles darkly, and Soren fights a squirm. 

"And," Soren tacks on, a bit cautious. "You've always been stronger than me, Ike."

"See," Ike says, even though Soren cannot see, seeing only Ike's eyes, his hands, his face, his lips- "if you have such expectations, what else should I do but live up to them?"

Ike reaches up to cup Soren's face, the sudden thumb on his cheek softer than Soren had imagined the touch to be. "You're... Not allowed to make faces like that," Ike says. "I... Don't..."

Soren does not know what face he's making, but a part of him want to freeze the expression in ice so that Ike will keep his attention on him, rather than that fury setting his bones alight.

.

Ike can vaguely hear snippets of a conversation. Although he does not normally take this much caution, for some reason he feels as if the atmosphere would change significantly if he were to appear. 

The world seemed heavier lately, and his sword lighter. There was indeed an odd fog trailing his footsteps and shadow. There was also the fact that Ike's eyes were a blazing shade of crimson, but Ike didn't _feel_ mad, or insane, or even wildly out of control.

Ike felt stronger.

Strong enough to conquer any enemy, without risk to his friends and family.

He felt _amazing._

There was indeed a struggle within him to temper the strength he had been given. It was nothing Ike could not handle. But he could not allow himself to hurt any of his friends in his quest to master the strength he had been granted.

Ike can barely remember the last time Soren told them that they had a new job. Hopefully, they got one soon. His hands were twitching to fight, and he could not stop the feeling like fire coursing through his veins...

Recently, he had seemed to be very... 

"...going to hurt you, Soren?"

Ike peers around the corner to see Mist with a ruffled sort of expression. It's clear that she had just slammed both hands onto the table just a moment ago. Soren is tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, a nervous gesture that Ike is sure that he himself has not noticed. 

"I don't mind if he does," Soren says, coolly. "In fact, I would accept it readily. I would take anything he would give me. Praise, hate, smiles, anger. They're all Ike. Therefore, they're all I need."

Ike can feel some of the rage almost dissipate for a moment, as if the emotion itself was just as confused as he.

"You- you should value yourself more!" Mist exclaims.

Soren actually looks up at her from his scattered papers, a glance that makes Mist startle. Whatever face he is making makes Mist gulp silently. "Why? What are you talking about?" Mist pouts, but Soren inclines his head away, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Ike, I know you're there. Come out."

Ike turns the corner, the side of his lips tilting up. "...Hey." His voice is more gruff than he expected it to be.

"We've got a new job," Soren says casually, eyes tracing ink on paper. Mist does not flinch, but she does give Soren a frantic look, and makes dramatic, over the top gestures that Soren blatantly ignores. 

Ike fights a vicious grin. 

"You cannot come."

The wild feeling dissipates immediately. He's angry now, a violent rage building within him, like a lit candle to oil, like dark thunder to sea.

Ike does not realize he has gripped the side of the table that Soren is working on, nor does he realize that he has crushed part of it into his hands, until Soren clicks his tongue.

When Soren meets his eyes, all of that anger is pushed aside. As if the sight of him was enough to douse the flames rising ever so steadily in his chest.

It is still there. It never fades, recently, but looking at Soren makes Ike realize what is most important here. So Ike grits his teeth, and tries to form words.

"Sorry..." Ike almost growls.

"About?" Soren says, coolly. Would that Ike be capable of acquiring some of that casual tone. His voice is a soothing balm against the flickering fire of his anger. 

"Breaking... the table," Ike says. "Why. Why...? Soren... I want to come."

Soren sighs, briefly shutting his eyes. "Mist, get your staff. Ike surely has received some splinters from this... sudden stint of his."

"R-right!" 

Mist scurries off out of the room.

"Well, you cannot come because you may harm the villagers that hired us to fight off the bandits terrorizing them," Soren says evenly. He expects rage, perhaps cool fury, even for Ike to stomp away. He knows that Ike would not ever harm him, so Soren is the one to tell him.

However, Soren does not expect for Ike to look absolutely betrayed. His shoulders slump, and a line creases between his brows. Ike's lip straightens into a thin line. 

Soren immediately glances away. 

"I," Ike begins, and Soren can hear him swallow roughly, the sound heartbreaking to Soren's ears. "I- Okay. I get it, Soren. You're right, I cannot be allowed- allowed near others like this. I have to- have to- I need..."

Ike drags himself out of the room, and Soren catches himself before he reaches out to him. Instead, he fists his hands into his robes and turns back to the papers with a snarl.

.

"Have you seen Ike?" Mist asks, peeking around the doorframe of Soren's sleeping chambers. When she sees that Soren is dressed for the day, she steps inside with light feet, practically skipping. Soren does not chide her. It had been two weeks, and Ike had been improving steadily. He no longer snapped at the slightest of breezes and he didn't brood in corners. There was still that fog, and a blood red sheen to his eyes, but he started grinning again, ruffling Mist's hair and being snarky to Boyd, explaining her sunny mood.

Soren simply thinks that Ike has become better at hiding his anger, but seeing Mist so pleased after several days makes him bite down around his words. "No, I have not. Why? Did you check the-"

"Kitchen and the training grounds? Yeah, of course! But he wasn't there. So I thought that he would be with you," Mist says casually.

Soren brushes imaginary dust from his robes as he stands from his cot, and Mist grins at him. "Why would he be with me?" Soren asks, flicking long hair over his shoulders.

"Well, duh," Mist says. "Of course he would be with you."

For some reason her words make him feel as light as a feather. They leave his room, wordlessly agreeing to look for him together.

Mist giggles quietly, skipping down the halls. Soren watches her go. "I'm so glad," she says, saccharine sweet. "I knew Ike was okay. I just knew it!"

"'Okay' is probably not the word that I would use," Soren says.

She stops briefly to allow Soren to catch up with her, and then swats at his arm like he was a pesky fly when he is in closer range. Soren blinks at her. "Oh shush, you," Mist scolds, the tone far too light for her to actually be chiding Soren. "You've been the most worried. Like some sort of mother hen sending her only child off to war!"

Soren frowns at her. "I have not," he informs her, trying for an even tone.

Mist laughs at him, then stops in her tracks. "Oh, wait. Ike is in there," Mist says, pointing at Titania's quarters. She beams. "My ears are excellent! Remember when Lethe said that I had hearing on par with the laguz?"

She walks up to the door, reaching for the handle, but not before Soren gently grabs at her wrist. "Wait, Mist. Their conversation..."

Mist nods eagerly, putting a finger to her lips with a knowing expression. She looks very excited to spy on them. Soren's hearing is quite decent as well, so he focuses, and waits.

"The only way to temper my rage is in battle," Ike hisses, on the other side of the door, "I'll kill and kill so I don't lay a finger on any of you."

"That could be sweet if it weren't so terrifying," Titania says, blithely.

Mist and Soren glance at each other.

"That is why I must temper this rage," Ike says lowly. "I will make this power my own. It will make me more capable of protecting the ones I hold dear. I cannot fear it, but I only fear that you, and Mist, and Soren as well as the others will."

Titania regards him for a second, then laughs, a small, tired sound, but happy nonetheless. "The Greil mercenaries will never leave you," she tells him, a grin in her voice. "And I can say for certain that Mist, Soren and I will stand by you, no matter what befalls you, Ike. We'll head for Serenes forest in the morning, first dawn. I know you've become better at hiding it, but I would feel much better if we at the very least had prince Reyson to take a look at you."

Ike closes his eyes. "...Thanks, Titania."

When Mist slips her hand into Soren's own, he does not bat her hand away.

They're about to back away from the door when Ike takes a heaving breath. "I think Soren is mad at me," he says, and both Mist and Soren are perfectly capable of picturing his unhappy frown. 

Soren's hand twitches for the door and it's suddenly Mist's turn to direct him away from the handle.

"Why do you think that?" Titania asks, quieter now.

"...'Cause I can't get ahold of myself quick enough," Ike says. Soren can practically see Ike now, eyebrow twitching, perhaps staring down at his hands, definitely not meeting Titania's eyes. "And he barely speaks to me! I really hate this. I'm disgusted that I'm not good enough. I know that you said otherwise, but... Would he leave if I became incompetent? I'm not fit to-"

His solemn thoughts are interrupted by Titania's sudden laugh. "I guess you are getting better," Titania says cheerily. "You're brooding like the young man that you are."

Soren can imagine Ike's scowl.

"You're so young," Titania tells him, voice tender. "I'm not actually privy to Soren's thoughts, you know. Only he knows. But wouldn't you understand him, as well? Additionally, Soren hardly speaks to anyone of his own free will."

Soren scowls, but Ike's next words soothe his spirit. "But I thought we were the closest of anyone here. Even if he is mad at me... It just makes me more angry, and I feel like crawling out of my own skin!"

"Are you mad at Ike?" Mist whispers, looking at Soren with wild eyes. Soren shakes his head.

"Keep it down," Soren says, and nearly jumps when Titania suddenly opens the closed door they were hiding behind. She sends them a triumphant smile.

Ike jolts when he sees them.

"...Soren," he breathes. The sound of his name on his lips is something to savor.

On the way to the dining hall at Titania's request, Soren purposefully brushes against Ike's shoulder with his own and is gifted the most genuine smile of his that he's seen in weeks. Soren can practically see the sun peeking out from storm clouds in Ike's grin.

Soren only hopes that this peace would last a bit longer.

.

The sudden journey to Serenes forest is not simple, but then again, nothing is, especially not in their situation.

Ike seems perfectly fine up until a few random villagers ask them to get rid of bandits that were terrorizing their village.

Of course, they cannot refuse.

And of course, Ike is the first one out for blood.

The Greil mercenaries hardly have time to move before Ike is raising hell with his own two hands, carving out destruction with his sword.

Soren watches the ensuing carnage with awed horror before he clenches his fists, walks straight up to Ike, and uses one to punch him right in the gut.

But Soren was never meant for brawl, and Ike was never one to take hits lying down, so his fist is grabbed in an instant.

He doesn't seem to be aware that it is Soren at first, but Ike notices him through the shifting haze of fog haloing his head, so at the very least Soren is spared a broken wrist.

"Stay... back," Ike says. 

Soren does not move. "Ike, please," the plea unfamiliar and thick on his tongue, "stand down!"

"Soren..." Ike breathes. "...don't understand. I must- I have to... Temper this rage!"

Soren does not budge. "Are you able to breathe with me, Ike?" He deliberately steadies the long, winded breaths in his chest. "Calm yourself. Match my pace."

Ike stares down at Soren, practically hovering over his head. But he does not grow agitated, so Soren allows himself to relax ever so slightly, just enough so that Ike is capable of noticing, and perhaps even relaxing a tad with him.

One of the bandits twitches and immediately Ike lifts his blade. Soren quickly steps in front of Ike, scowling.

"I said... STAY BACK!" Ike yells, both his voice and that dreaded fog coming to a crescendo, and to truly punctuate his words, he pushes at Soren's chest. It's not enough for him to be knocked over, nor is it a shove that hurt, but the fact that it was Ike made the entire experience unbearably painful.

Soren drags his eyes up from his feet to see Ike with a horrified, stricken expression. His hands literally tremble in the air between them, darkness weaving in and out of his fingertips.

"I... Soren..." Ike says, and slowly falls to the floor, eyes staring at his hands as if they were cursed. "I hurt you... I laid my hands on you...!"

Hurriedly, Soren crouches at his side and tries to grab his attention by cupping his face. "No, no!" Soren almost sputters. His composure had flown away with what seemed to be his sanity. "Look. I'm fine. You didn't hurt me. You were merely surprised. I don't blame you, Ike. You weren't in your right mind. I'm okay, really!"

The bandits, smarter than they look, flee as soon as Ike's attention is directed elsewhere. Titania sends a few men after them, but absentmindedly, for her eyes are only on Ike.

Ike slowly hunches down, hands practically ripping hair out of his skull. His eyes are wild, and they focus on everything but Soren. He looks lost. Small, in a way Ike has never been.

"I said that I wouldn't..."

Soren crouches down in front of Ike, his heart a frenzied butterfly battering along his ribs. "Ike," he says, softly.

"He- I...hurt him...!"

Soren forces a small laugh. "You only pushed me," Soren says, like he was speaking to a frightened child. "I'm not hurt. You would never hurt me, Ike. Regain your senses."

"No," Ike groans, and Soren gasps as he watches Ike's eyes turn glassy. "I've lost him, I've hurt him, I..."

"The medallion amplifies chaotic parts of an individual's personality," Titania whispers, feather soft. 

There is a part of Ike that enjoys the high tension of the battlefield, and a similar part that enjoys strength for selfish reasons. It is a version of him that is tempered and subdued by his personality, his morals, his thoughts, and his friends.

There is another part of Ike that simmers closest to the surface. A part that dictates that he never hurt anyone dear to him, and that he must grow stronger because of that fact.

Soren folds the man he adores into his arms and doesn't stop biting down on his lip until the fog dissipates with the wind.

Their encounters do not stop. The journey to Serenes forest is a long one, made even longer by Ike's sudden fits of violence. 

The smarter thieves take a good look at their commander and flee. The ones that do not face Ike's full wrath and ire. 

Titania thinks that he has improved after Soren's sudden hug. Soren still watches her push the mercenaries to their limits, and even then they only are allowed to rest for a brief moment.

Soren watches Ike grab an arrow mid flight and watches the archer turn pale when Ike snaps it in two. 

Usually Ike is knocked out when they encounter the more unsavory individuals. Sometimes he storms off, away from the onslaught of enemies. Many times he sits out and watches the mercenaries handle them, but Soren keeps his image in the corner of his eye and watches Ike twitch whenever anyone is so much as scratched.

If Titania doesn't pay enough attention to him, Ike brushes his hands off on his cape and stands to join them.

Normally, Titania shoos him away and Ike stomps off obediently, stomping and scowling but understanding. On one memorable occasion, Soren had been cornered, which did not go well for anyone nearby.

Ike's hands are covered in blood as he turns around and meets Soren's eyes. It's enough to literally drip from his fingertips and sink into the floor.

Soren is not nervous. Soren's heart only picks up and hums like a bee in his chest because it is Ike that is looking at him. Soren is not afraid of Ike, he is only afraid of what Ike will see when he looks at Soren.

The sound of footsteps, and Ike is standing in front of Soren with an expression that he can barely pick apart. 

With a bloody hand, Ike cups Soren's face. And he cannot help his blush. Soren cannot remember a time when he has done such a thing. There is almost nothing tender about this moment, only that it is Ike, Ike, and that alone makes Soren melt into his hands like snow under a gentle sun. 

"Hurt?" Ike asks, voice gruff.

In a rare moment of pure instinct and want, Soren lifts his own hand to cover the one on his cheek. Ike's hands are rough, calloused from swordsmanship, and much larger than Soren's own. "No," Soren tells him. "How could I be hurt, when you're the one protecting me?"

The words are much more sentimental and revealing than Soren has ever intended them to be.

Ike brushes a thumb into the apple of Soren's cheek and Soren can feel warmth raise from his chest and lift into his head. The smear of blood left behind by Ike's touch is something Soren does not want to wipe away, as ridiculous as he sounds. He knows he's being silly. Probably mad.

He meets Ike's eyes and wishes that they were blue.

.

They are to reach Serenes forest tomorrow, at dawn. Titania had sent a letter ahead, and prince Reyson is aware of their sudden visit.

Soren is impatient for the moment that Ike regains total clarity. He tosses and turns under a thin, threadbare blanket, the colour of days old bread.

It is hard to fall asleep, and even more difficult to even close his eyes. Across the clearing that the Greil mercenaries had decided to camp in for the night, Soren watches others plagued by the knowledge of tomorrow- Mist does not even pretend to be sleeping, and Titania stares, wide eyed, into a dying fire.

Soren is distracted, which is his excuse for why he jolts when Ike slips under his blanket without warning. Their thighs press together, and Soren feels that area and his head rise in warmth.

"Soren," Ike says.

Emboldened by the shadow of night, Ike throws one arm around his waist. With his other hand, he takes one of Soren's own, entwining their fingers together.

Soren will never admit to doing so, but he melts under Ike's rough hands. The sudden familiarity and casual touches make his chest hot and his toes curl.

It is Ike.

It is Ike, so he will accept anything from him. Ike is a warm, solid pressure at his side, and Soren absentmindedly leans his weight onto him.

"Soren," Ike repeats, lower now. "You're not going to steal away into the night, are you?"

Normally, Soren would bite something scathing, perhaps with the edge off, just for Ike alone. 

_"You're being ridiculous and irrational. You should know me by now."_

The words shrivel and die in his throat. 

Even someone like Ike needed comfort at times. Especially someone like Ike. Tomorrow, when Ike's head is clear and his eyes bright with a morning dawn he will likely resent himself for the unnecessary violence he's caused. Quietly, without worrying anyone.

Soren wants to comfort him. Soren is glad Ike trusts him enough to be comforted by him.

"I am not going anywhere," Soren tells him quietly. The thumb on Soren's hip starts to make gentle rubbing motions, and Soren swallows a gentle, soft sigh. "I will always be with you, Ike."

He is more honest than he would have liked, but the soft expression Ike shoots him makes Soren feels as if he has won something. It makes him feel soft, wanted, loved. 

If it were not Ike, Soren would hurry to scramble away. But because it is Ike, Soren will covet every aspect of him. The Ike who murders and slaughters and maims, uncaring of who dies as long as his friends are safe and sound. The Ike who gives out sandwiches and smiles and presses their skin together and makes Soren feel like a miracle.

One and the same. Soren could fly with the power of this knowledge alone.

Under the blanket, Soren adjusts his body so he is able to lie ever so slightly on Ike's chest, and is rewarded with the beautiful sight of Ike's grin.

Soren, the selfish creature he thinks himself to be, wants to swallow this moment and live in it forever.

Ike takes the hand he is holding and brings it to his mouth, pressing his thin fingers to his lips. His sudden bold nature sends lighting through Soren's spine, curves thunder through the foundation of his very being. Soren does not fight his shudder when Ike's eyes meet his.

"I wouldn't be able to go anywhere without you," Ike says, like a prayer. 

Soren closes his eyes and feels the words lift his spirits. He wonders, briefly and irrationally, for a moment, about a world in which Ike had delivered a lethal blow upon his head.

Soren thinks that he could be happy in that world too.

"That's just as well," Soren breathes. "I wouldn't be anything- anyone, without you."

The feeling of Ike's hands on him make him feel drowsy and soft. Soren feels distinctly like a cloud under his touch. He allows himself to sleep.

When Soren's eyes open again, the fog that has been shrouding Ike's head for what seemed like millennia disappears into the dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> this was made literally just for me, but if you enjoyed it even the slightest bit, i am very happy! thank u very much for reading ♡
> 
> this is actually the first oneshot ive completed.... ever! AND I KINDA WANNA TURN THIS INTO A TWOSHOT CAUSE IDK I HATE MYSELF I GUESS im kinda proud of myself phew
> 
> stay safe y'all


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